Comfort
by Aelia Douglass
Summary: The Dragonborn is having a bad week, and Farkas might be the only one who can make her feel better.  Prequel to "Bound" and "Nightmares"
1. Chapter 1

From the SkyrimKinkMeme, in response to the following prompt:

_The Dragonborn comes home from a generally unpleasant day (Follower died, getting a particularly nasty wound, dragon ate all their treasure, whatever you like) and isn't very pleased. Cue LI helping make her feel better with fluff, jokes and/or sexytimes._

This is a prequel-of-sorts to "Bound" and "Nightmares," set somewhere around the time that they were just discovering interest in each other.

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><p>To say Lila had had a rough day was putting it mildly. It had been a rough <em>fortnight<em> and she was _not _in a good mood when she stormed into Jorrvaskr.

It had _started_ when she'd been ambushed by a dragon out in Hjaalmarch. She'd been miles from anywhere, and she was, for the first time in months, traveling alone. It had been an Elder Dragon. She'd barely survived. But the _damned _beast had swallowed her horse and eaten her supplies.

And her treasure.

Bastard.

She'd tried to salvage anything, but there wasn't much left besides bones. It had always seemed convenient that dragons disintegrated when she killed them until she needed to recover her things from its belly.

All she'd found was the Wabbajack, some spiced wine, and a sweet roll.

She'd cursed her luck, kicked the dragon's skeleton for good measure, and set off on the long trek back to Whiterun. She might have starved, but she'd chanced across both a rabbit warren, and a salmon run, and though the meat had been tasteless without salt, she'd choked it down and kept herself going.

Still, even with all that, she might have still been alright.

Until the troll.

The damned thing had come out of nowhere, and had managed to give her a thorough beating and tear through her worn leather armor, leaving a nasty gash down her sternum. She'd killed it, but it had hurt her, and she'd lost a lot of blood. She tried to heal herself, but her potions had been swallowed by the dragon, and she had never been good at magic. Every time she cast a healing spell, she got dizzy, and it seemed to do more harm than good.

So she'd patched herself up as best she could, and kept on.

When she'd stumbled into Jorrvaskr, gaunt, bloodstained, and leaning heavily on the Wabbajack, silence had descended.

Then Aela had snorted and made some snide comment she couldn't even remember, and she'd nearly beaten the woman senseless- despite her weakened state- with the Wabbajack. Only Farkas' intervention had saved the other woman from Lila's wrath.

"Lila?" His voice had been so full of concern, and so gentle. She'd stared up into his beautiful eyes and tried to answer him.

Darkness descended.

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><p><em>Originally the text of chapter 2 had been included here, but I've since divided it since I feel like it is better formatted that way.<em>


	2. Chapter 2

When Lila woke, she was disoriented. She remembered arriving at Jorrvaskr and then... nothing. Reality settled in slowly around her. She was being carried, somewhere. Gently. By... she glanced up. Farkas.

That was surprising.

But she really couldn't complain. He was carrying her carefully, and he smelled clean. Her pride wanted her to demand that he set her down, because she was perfectly capable of walking to her bed herself, but the rest of her tired, aching self won out. She let herself sag against him.

"Ah, you're awake." He glanced down at her, then kicked open the door at the foot of the stairs from the drinking hall. So she hadn't been out long. Good.

"Farkas?" she asked after a moment. He glanced down at her again. "Where are you taking me?" They'd passed the main room, and headed back to one of the personal rooms.

"My room." He frowned, seemingly just realizing that she might have an issue with his choice. "If that's alright?"

Lila turned that over in her mind. She could insist he take her back to the bed she'd claimed in the main sleeping quarters, where she would have to hear Ria snore, and Torvar mutter dirty things in his sleep. Or, she could let Farkas take her back to his room, where she would probably manage actual sleep for the first time in days. When she thought about it, there was only one real option.

"That would be fine." She thought she saw a small smile, but she couldn't be sure with this angle.

It was only a few more steps before he pushed open the door to his room and deposited her on the bed. She glanced around. She'd always been curious about the bedrooms back here, but had never actually been in one. They were private, and aside from one time when she'd had to find Aela while she was talking to Skjor, she hadn't intruded.

"You have a _bar _in your room?" She couldn't help the laughter, though it made her ribs ache. Perhaps she'd cracked one. It was a bad thought, and sobered her quickly. It must have been the troll.

He looked away sheepishly, rubbing the nape of his neck in what had to be a nervous tic. "Well, I like company, and this way, company comes to me."

Unfortunately, that made her laugh again. This time, she couldn't help wincing in pain.

"Lila?" He was at her side in an instant, kneeling and pressing his hand to her side. She winced once more, and he frowned. "We need to get your armor off."

"You-" she laughed, and winced again. "You just want to get me naked, don't you?"


	3. Chapter 3

If she had known how red Farkas could turn in an instant, Lila might have teased him months ago. But he'd been busy, and so had she, and they'd never interacted much. Still, she was comfortable with him in a way she wasn't with many people.

Farkas was a strong man, but knew how to be gentle. He was careful when he removed her armor. When he saw the gash on her sternum, he froze.

"Lila?" He didn't look away from it, but she was afraid to look down. She couldn't bear to face the remains of her under-clothes. She'd been a warrior too long to really be modest; in the wilderness there often wasn't much privacy to be had. He sat beside her and leaned close, his breath dancing across her skin and raising goosebumps on her flesh. "What happened?"

"Troll," she said, her voice tightening with pain as he touched the wound. He probed first the cut on her sternum, then the vibrantly colored bruise on her side. What he saw clearly didn't make him happy, and with each touch his frown seemed to deepen. She couldn't tear her eyes from his face. She'd thought him dull, but there was a depth of expression there which she would never have expected.

"Hmm." He grabbed something from a nearby shelf and pressed it into her hand. A healing potion. She uncorked it and took a drink. It was awful, but she made herself keep going. Three terrible sips, and a final gulp, and the bottle was empty. The relief was nearly instant. "Better?"

She nodded. As useful- and effective- as healing potions could be, it was unfortunate that they tasted so bad. She was swallowing, trying to get the taste out of her mouth when he handed her something else. Black-Briar Mead. It only took a sip for the sweet drink to chase away the potion taste and burn down her throat.

"Thank you," She sighed and sank back into his surprisingly soft bed. It was nice to have someone take care of her this way. It was a new experience, and except for the circumstances leading up to it, not entirely unpleasant.

Tentatively, Farkas reached out and pressed his hand against the still-healing wound on her chest. His touch was clinical, rather than a caress, but her body still reacted with a small shiver. He glanced at her face, then back to where his hand rested on her. Gingerly, he pulled back, sitting upright.

"It feels better already. Thank you." She smiled at him, snuggling down into his pillows. He nodded, and rose from his seat. Farkas grabbed the edge of the blanket and tugged, draping it over her to ensure that she stayed warm while the potion worked its magic.

"Rest. I'm going to get some food."

She might have nodded. She couldn't be sure. But she was asleep before he even left the room.


	4. Chapter 4

She woke in an unfamiliar bed, in an unfamiliar room. She ached, and she was hungry. It was unsettling, but reality settled in and she remembered where she was.

She'd fallen asleep in Farkas' bed. He'd said something about, food? Her stomach growled in response to that thought. Either he hadn't returned, or he had, and she had slept through it. The latter seemed more likely.

She sat up, and fumbled at the nightstand for a candle, but came back empty handed. Damn. She'd have to find her way to the door blind.

Determined to see this through, Lila lowered her feet to the floor, and felt a body. She shrieked.

It moved with a roar, and she threw herself back against the wall. And then, as suddenly as it had started, it stopped. Silence descended.

"Lila?" Farkas sounded... well, she didn't know what he sounded. Confused? Contrite? Certainly not as angry as his roar had made him sound.

"Farkas?" Her breathing was slowing to a normal pace, and her heart no longer felt like it was about to pound out of her chest.

"Oh gods, Lila. Did I hurt you?"

"I'm no worse off than I was before I slept." She laughed, and she heard him let out a breath of relief. "Think you could turn on a light?"

She felt him pause. Heard rustling in the dark, and then a light flared as he lit a candle. Farkas smiled, though she could tell he was as shaken as she.

They stared at each other, seemingly taking each other's measure once more. The sound he'd made had been _inhuman_ and had left her shaken, but the man who stood there was Farkas. Big, strong, gentle, Farkas.

"Food?" He finally asked, breaking the awkwardness.

"Yes, please."

They ate in silence.


	5. Chapter 5

She settled back on his bed, tucked her feet under herself, and leaned against the wall behind her. The pain was gone, her belly was pleasantly full, and she had slept- at least a little. All she really needed was a chance to bathe, and she would feel like herself again.

Farkas looked nervous, however. He perched awkwardly upon the foot of his bed, giving her sidelong glances when he thought she wasn't looking. Finally, she caught his eye and quirked an eyebrow in an unspoken question.

"Do-" he paused, and very nearly wrung his hands before settling them once more upon the blanket beside himself. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Farkas?" she asked, an edge of disbelief to her voice. "Did you just ask if I wanted to talk about my feelings?"

His brows knit in confusion as he shot her a puzzled look. His mouth opened and closed once, twice before he managed to speak.

"I thought women liked that?" The unintentional question in his voice was her undoing.

She began to laugh, which made his confusion more profound, which made her laugh harder, until her not-quite-healed ribs began to ache, until she could hardly breathe for laughing. He cracked a smile, the simple expression charming her more than a million honeyed words.

"Some women do," Lila agreed after she had finally caught her breath. "I am not one of those women, but thank you."

He sighed in relief.

"I was worried you did want to talk." He seemed to realize what he had just said, because it made him blush and stammer. "It's not that... I mean, I could _listen_ but..." He ducked his head, rubbed the nape of his neck with a hand. "Vilkas is really better at talking."

At the mention of his brother, she nearly sighed. Vilkas frustrated her as no other man had. He was the reason she had been out in the wilds of Hjaalmarch. She had run away. She had wanted to escape, but it was impossible to escape yourself. To leave behind thoughts and memories. There was nowhere she could run that he would not be haunting her. That her thoughts would not tease her with 'what ifs' and 'could have beens.'

She was tired of thinking. Tired of her own company. So she had been on her way back to Whiterun, back to Jorrvaskr, back to _him_ when she had been attacked. She had survived, and kept going, because she wanted to see him one more time.

But it had not been Vilkas who had been there for her. It had been Farkas who had helped her. It was Farkas who was sitting here with her, willing to listen to her though it made him profoundly uncomfortable.

Farkas had been there all along, always ready to help, though he didn't always know how. He'd helped her learn how to wear heavy armor. He'd encouraged her when she'd been ready to give up, and had sponsored her entrance into the Circle.

"Thank you," she said.

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><p>For more information about Lila and Vilkas, you should check out "Regret." It's all there.<p> 


	6. Chapter 6

_I know it's been a while since my last update, but writing was less important than straightening my shit out and figuring out my life. There was a lot of angst and drama, but things seem to be steadying. Thank you for your patience, sorry for delay. Please enjoy the final chapter of "Comfort."_

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><p>Their eyes met, and in a moment that Lila would normally have described as "the stuff for those with nothing but romance and fluff in their heads" electricity sizzled between them. She smiled, and Farkas grinned in response.<p>

And then his hands were tangling in her hair, and his mouth was upon hers in a kiss that was so passionate that her toes curled. Her hands were busy, tugging at and working to remove as much of his clothing as she could without ending this kiss.

When it came time to remove his shirt, he roughly yanked it off, over his head and threw it aside before tugging her breastband off and baring her to him. He grinned, the smile wolfish, and brought his mouth to her collarbone, nipping and then kissing her bare flesh. He moved down her chest, kissing along the healing wound, and then the peak of her breast, which was already aching for his attention. He rubbed one stubbly cheek against it, then caught it between his lips and soothed it with his tongue. She sighed, and arched against him, trying to encourage him to move further, go faster, do _anything_but draw out her torment.

"Please," she gasped, her hands moving down to her own hips, sliding her loincloth down her thighs. He gently removed her hand, and completed the movement himself, his hand sliding over her skin reverently.

"Oh Lila," he sighed, kissing his way down her belly, letting his lips and tongue continue caressing her as his body moved over hers. She lay back on his bed, her skin flushed, and her lips parted in invitation as she gazed up at him. He stretched out alongside her and propped himself up on one elbow so he could kiss her and touch with his free hand.

His fingers slid down her belly and parted her damp folds, stroking her and making her gasp.

"Farkas, please. I need you." Her voice came out rough, expressing the desire she felt.

He smiled down at her, and filled her in a single motion. She began moving immediately, matching him in the rhythm of need and desperation as he thrust and withdrew, filling her and causing her to make noises she hadn't known she was capable of.

She nearly shouted his name as she climaxed. He wasn't far behind. He lowered himself over her, keeping most of his weight on his elbows instead of on her.

"You're beautiful, Lila." He nuzzled her neck. "I didn't mean to take advantage of you."

She laughed, "You didn't." She kissed the parts of him that she could reach. She stroked his skin, her fingers tracing the lines of old scars, and new. She was more relaxed than she had been in weeks.

"Thank you, Farkas. For turning my week around. You're wonderful."

All that answered her was his snore. Torn between indignation and amusement, Lila decided that being angry was far too much effort. Instead, she closed her eyes and let herself drift off as well. Warm and safe and happy with Farkas, her ridiculous Nord.


End file.
